


In the Timing

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Noctis waits for his father. He's used to it.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum & Regis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 8
Kudos: 90





	In the Timing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glaivenoct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaivenoct/gifts).



> A [prompt fill](https://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/614501915912470528/42-for-noct-and-papa-regis) for [glaivenoct](https://glaivenoct.tumblr.com/)!

Noctis didn’t wear a watch. He was twenty, he had a smart phone for keeping time.

The man at the next table over, however, definitely wore a wristwatch. One of those clunky, faux-gold things with numbers that were too small and hands that were too big. Noctis knew the hands were too big because he could hear how _loud_ they were, marching from one, uniform second to the next like a magitek squadron. One, _tick,_ two, _tick_ , three, _stomp,_ four, _tock_. A ceaseless advance across the battlefield of time, conquering every last second.

It wouldn’t have been so loud if Noctis wasn’t listening for it, if he wasn’t glancing at the numbers on his phone in time to the ticking. His digital clock didn’t display seconds to count down. He was glad that it didn’t, because the noise alone of the seconds chopping across the other diner’s wristwatch were moving too quickly for Noct’s liking. At least the minutes didn’t move nearly as much on his phone. At least they humored him into thinking his dad had more time than he did.

“Can I get you a drink, sir?”

Noctis startled from the fugue state of listening to the ticks in time. He blinked up at the waiter’s pleasant smile, waiting patiently with his pen over his pad. Noctis felt his face color, raking his eyes over the wine menu and finding the burgundy he knew his dad liked the best.

“A bottle of that,” he said. “And, um…” He glanced at the restaurant doors. He bit his lip, then added, “Two glasses.”

It wasn’t a big deal. He’d prepared himself for his father to be late. Noctis wasn’t exactly the most punctual person himself… But then again, he knew he didn’t get that from his dad. The King arrived everywhere he was meant to be, exactly on time – though Noctis knew that had little to do with his father’s own awareness of said time. He had a team of trained professionals who counted the seconds for him. When left to his own devices… well, how was anyone supposed to know? They didn’t _let him_ be left to his own devices.

Noctis sighed, sinking down into his chair. He told himself he wasn’t going to get upset. He wasn’t going to let himself feel the bitterness he reserved for the King’s Council on the daily. He was just going to sit there and _breathe_ , rather than sit there and _brood_. There was still time. Regis wasn’t late yet. It was just that damn ticking of the clock that made Noctis fear that, any second now, he would be.

He wasn’t going to catch the clock. He wasn’t going to torture himself by pretending he had anything interesting to look at on his phone when he just wanted it on to look at the time. He had set it aside, screen-side down, and kept it silent for that specific purpose. He hadn’t accounted for the fact that he would be able to _hear_ the time if he couldn’t see it. And he couldn’t exactly snap at the guy wearing the wristwatch. What kind of psycho bit off a guy’s head for wearing a fundamental accessory? Besides, the stranger seemed to be having a lovely dinner with the woman across from him.

They were celebrating something. He knew because they ordered champagne. Noct tried not to be envious. He tried to be optimistic. He tried to be better than his pettier nature. If he didn’t make it, whatever, it was fine. It wasn’t like they were celebrating anything as monumental as something that warranted champagne. It wasn’t Noct’s proudest achievement, it wasn’t even something he’d remember in a few years, maybe even a few months. So he completed his basic armiger training. So did ever past King of Lucis. It wasn’t like this was the most notable thing he’d ever be remembered for in history.

But still. _But still._ It wasn’t so much the achievement itself he wanted to share with his father. He didn’t even feel much like celebrating it. It was just an excuse. He just wanted to share something – any little thing – with his father, without any of the pomp and circumstance the Council would make over it if they got the news first. He just wanted to have a simple dinner out, to have a simple conversation with his dad about the not even remotely normal complexities of their magical spirit swords.

But it was fine. Another time. It wasn’t important…

“Ah, Noct! You’re here.”

Noctis bolted upright the instant he heard his father’s voice. For a second, he thought he must have imagined it as some sort of mental admonishment for letting himself sink into such ill-felt depths. But there was no mistaking the characteristic step of the King across the carpeted floor, the thump of his cane as steady as clock keeping time.

“You made it,” Noctis said, vacantly, still not quite believing it.

“I’m not late, am I?”

Regis’s forehead wrinkled as he reached his chair. He tugged on the thin golden chain looped along his breast pocket and withdrew his pocket watch. No one used pocket watches anymore. Not even people with wristwatches. Noctis pursed his lips to keep from laughing. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to.

“No, you’re right on time.”

Regis smiled, confirming the time on the silent face of his clock. He was just as proud of his tiniest achievements as Noct was. If anything, Noct wanted to celebrate their freedom to do this more than he wanted to celebrate himself. But Regis wasn’t having it.

“First, allow your old man to give you a toast,” Regis announced as he sat down.

“That’s really not necessary dad.”

“Of course it is. I’m the King, toasts are what I’m best at.”

Noctis snorted in laughter, but poured them each a glass of red anyway. He raised his glass and waited for Regis to make his speech. He made a big show of clearing his throat and sitting up straight and preparing himself for a grandiose declaration of admiration for all of his son’s minute achievements. But in the end, all he said was, “A toast to many more timely dinner dates.”

“Here, here.”

The glasses clinked, the wine was warm going down, and the nice waiter returned to take their order. It was the most normal Noctis had felt in a while. And he was very much proud of that.


End file.
